


One Shots and Side Tales

by Archaya



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse, Angst and Feels, Bara Sans (Undertale), Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Just not the way you expect, One Shot, Open Relationships, Song Lyrics, Songfic, Technically Happy Ending?, female - Freeform, if you squint real hard, married reader, reader is female
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:08:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21714301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archaya/pseuds/Archaya
Summary: A place for all my get-rich-quick schemes, ideas I'm not sure will ever make their way into a fic, or writer's-block-removing smut.Each section will be rated separately.
Relationships: G!Sans/Reader, Sans (Undertale)/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 25





	1. Losing you *Classic Bara Sans and You* (Rated T )

**Author's Note:**

> This is told from 1st Person. It was a shower idea, it was knocked out super quick. All angst. You get a happy ending though?  
> If you have any requests, leave’ em in the comments!  
> The song is "When We Were Lovers" by Studio Killers. Link below, if you wanna listen to it.  
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=U80vDEoN2zE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Trigger Warnings** : Alcohol, implied non-con/rape (super vague, might not even count for some people, just want to be safe)

The first time I met _him_ I thought he was cool. Some cool new guy who worked at the same place you did. He told great jokes, smiled almost constantly, and had a super chill way of talking. I didn’t know at that moment, I was too blind to see it, the way he looked at you. I didn’t think anything of you being friends, since he was a Monster. A skeleton. Literally the least threatening thing on the planet.  


_When we were lovers  
_

_Feelings_  


He came over with Alphys and a few others from the University. It was just movies, although you two sat together and I sat in the bean bag. You were with your friends, you chatted with all of them, smiled at all of them, laughed with all of them. If you smiled a little brighter, or laughed a little harder, or talked a little more to _him_ , I didn’t notice. Not then.  


_Remembering the accident  
_

_The puppy love slipped from your heart  
_

_Along with the nonsense_  


At some point the fighting started. I can’t remember _exactly_ why or what about. I only remember it usually involved _him_ or something _he_ said. He was too familiar with you, too friendly, touching your hair, your hands, leaning over you while you worked at your computer. Whenever I visited you at the lab you were always close, thigh to femur, or shoulder to his ribs. It didn’t seem innocent though you claimed it was. I should have stopped it then but you were so insistent.  


_Suddenly you burned our flag  
_

_Declared independence  
_

_Eternity was cut too short_  


I knew you weren’t mine when I saw you two walking to our apartment. _Our_ apartment. With food and a handful of new movies. No Alphys, no Undyne, no Papyrus, no co-workers. Just you two. You hadn’t even texted me to say you were hanging out together. Maybe because at that point I tended to flip whenever _he_ was mentioned. It just hurt; I could see him moving in on you, pushing me out of your life, and you were so innocent of it all. You insisted you were just friends, best friends, co-workers, colleagues.  


_Though I admit  
_

_My lover was already gone  
_

_I just warmed up the seat  
_

_For somebody new_  


I could tell you were hanging out with _him_ , and just _him_ , by how you started dressing. You wore more green because he said it matched your Soul. You put on what little makeup you could be bothered with, like you used to when we went on dates. It hurt. Every time I saw you put on green I knew you were hanging out with him.  


_That you were bound to meet  
_

_That somebody who  
_

_Would take the place of me  
_

_In your feelings_  


At some point you stopped being receptive to my affection. You turned your head from my kisses, you pushed my hands away when I tried to touch you the way you like, you slept on the couch. My breath smelled like booze, sure, but we were together. You were mine, right? Shouldn’t I be able to touch my girl?  


_Gradually you overstayed  
_

_Our memories would not be played  
_

_to friends in a slide show_  


“It’s over.” Those words echoed through the apartment. Your stuff was in a bag. Your face was dry. Was it the drinking? Or was it _him_?  


_There had never been that much to see  
_

_at the end of our rainbow  
_

_Humidity and last sunbeams  
_

_in a vacant lot_  


Was I not good enough because I wasn’t over six feet tall? Was it because I didn’t have a handful of science degrees and couldn’t keep up with your magnificent brain? Was it because I didn’t make you laugh with witty puns? You used to laugh at my jokes. You used to not care that I was only a handful of inches taller than you. You used to say it didn’t matter that I worked at a restaurant. Now? Now I think it matters. You don’t say as much, you never would as sweet as you are, but I know he’s put those thoughts in your head. He had to have, why else would you leave?  


_My lover was already gone  
_

_I just warmed up the seat  
_

_For somebody new  
_

_That you were bound to meet  
_

_That somebody who  
_

_Would take the place of me  
_

_In your feelings_  


I called you over and over and you don’t answer. You’re living with him. It didn’t take that long, a month or two. I knew he was moving in on you. I knew it. I could see what you couldn’t. Now I get to sit outside _his_ cozy house, peeking through the big bay window. You’re dancing with him, so small and delicate and beautiful. Happy. I want to scream and throw my brown bottle through the window. But I don’t because the bottle keeps me warm. It’s all I have.

_My lover was already gone  
_

_I just warmed up the seat  
_

_For somebody new..._  


Because you’ve got a band on your left ring finger now. Because you’ve got a mark on your neck. Because you’re looking at him in a way you’ve never looked at me before. Like he was everything, like he made the sun rise every morning, and he was looking at you like you hung the stars. Because you’re not my girlfriend anymore. You’re Mrs. Sans Aster.


	2. Torrid (G!Sans X Reader) Rated T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You meet G at a party and decide to take a little hop, that might turn into a leap if you're not careful. He's one smooth Skeleton.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have another 2 possible chapters to this, if there's enough interest. If not, It's cute as is.<3  
>  **Rating warning:** Alcohol is imbibed and sex is alluded to, but not graphically. It's just glossed over.

Plunking down onto a worn leather couch, drink in hand, you couldn’t help but be somewhat thankful that you didn’t run into anyone you knew. You’d die of shame if whispers started around the office. Not like the gossips at work didn’t already whisper about you.  


_I heard she’s a virgin._  


_But, isn’t she married?_  


_Hubby probably can’t get it up around her. She’s too uptight, poor guy._  


Your fingers twitched around your glass. You were sure that those rumors would start swirling around here, too. Eyes were already glancing your way, words passed from lips to ear, hushed and clandestine. You took a sip. You couldn’t even taste the alcohol, orange juice overpowering the tequila in your Sunrise.  


It soothed the ache a little. Despite the number of people at this party, the house wasn’t crowded and yet you were alone. Sweeping the room with cautious eyes, you spot your husband. He’s got an arm around another woman, head dipped to her neck. If he’s kissing her or whispering in her ear, you can’t tell, but you’re glad he’s pushing his attention onto someone else.  


All around you, people were gathered, talking softly. Soulful music played at a low volume, enhancing the atmosphere. You took another sip from your drink, wishing you were anywhere but here. This party wasn’t a normal one, no. At first glance, it seemed so, but if you let your gaze linger, you’d notice things. The way men and women flirted, some wearing rings, some not. The soft touches and lustful gazes.  


There were a few pairs here to just connect with other couples in the ‘lifestyle’ but most were here to swap or find a third. Your husband was here to sate his needs. You recrossed your legs without thinking, squeezing them tighter together. A shiver shot down your spine. You were very glad that no one was approaching you. Perhaps it was just the vibe you gave off-- _prude_ \-- but you weren’t interested in that kind of activity.  


It’s not like you were completely asexual. You got urges, hot waves of desire that woke you, dreams that left you dripping and aching. It was more that you weren’t interested in your husband. You wanted someone you had a connection with, someone you could trust, maybe even someone you could love. Not someone you married because your parents were old fashioned and you were just so _tired_ of the way they pushed and nagged.  


As you sipped you scanned the room again, looking for someone, _anyone_ , to talk to. You didn’t have any hopes of making a connection but even just a friend would do. Someone who might be sympathetic. In this particular environment, you didn’t have much hope.  


Groups were heading off to rooms, some were heading to the door with their new ‘friends’, thinning the party out. As if given some queue, the party organizer bounced her way to the couch. Your eyes were drawn to her for a moment, but only just. The presence behind her robbed you of your breath.  


“Ah, there you are!” Emilie smiled brightly, dragging the other person around for you to see them more clearly. “I want to introduce you to someone. Meet G!”  


She held her hands out as she presented him, as if he was a magic trick. It was condescending and yet appropriate. Because G wasn’t just any person, G was a Monster.  


Your town was tiny, conservative, boring. Monsters tended to keep to their own cities and those that did branch out went to bigger cities with more accepting attitudes. Your pulse jumped; you were being given an extremely rare opportunity to make friends with someone completely and totally different than anything you’d ever been exposed to.  


You wiped your hand on your leg before presenting it with a smile and offering your name.  


He repeated your name, and _oh boy_. That voice.  


Emilie smiled and bounced giddily, she lived for connecting people, before bouncing off with a “I’ll leave you two to it!”  


G was a Skeleton and at least a head and a half taller than you, though you weren’t exactly the tallest person around. You’d never seen his like, with his cream turtleneck, pressed black jeans, biker books, and cropped leather jacket. The fur that lined the hood matched his shirt and made the red and white patches on the arms stand out. He looked like the consummate bad boy, of which this town had none. And this conundrum of rebellion and respectability was _smiling at you._  


“Haven’t seen your pretty face around here before. You new?”  


He finally took your offered hand.  


His touch was electric, sharp bolts of heat spearing you from where his bones made contact, straight to your chest. Your eyes darted up to meet his. Golden orbs hung in the endless black sockets, acting as eyes. Their glow intensified for a moment before he brought your hand to his mouth, pressing your skin to the smooth surface. The pseudo-kiss made your skin tingle and heat pool in your belly, though you blamed the alcohol.  


The flexibility of his face was astonishing. Even the cracks running along his skull from his sockets moved, as if it was skin and not bone.  


“Y-yeah. My husband wanted to do this.” You eked out, your throat tight and dry.  


“Marriage not working for you?”  


You tilted your head in confusion. His grin was devilish and wonderful. You were pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to stand on your own for much longer.  


“I-I’m sorry?”  


“Most humans come here because their marriage isn’t working out in the bedroom. They wanna spice it up, try something or someone new. Hubby not satisfying ya?” His tone was so sensual, you shuddered. It was strange, your husband had never inspired this feeling in you, and it felt both wrong and right.  


“It’s more that I’m not satisfying him. I can’t.. Do it.” You finished lamely, bringing your drink up to your mouth. Heat was flooding your chest and neck; you don't drink often and you blamed the alcohol for your loose tongue. Why else would you be spilling your guts to a total stranger?  


He hummed, a low rumbling sound that you felt all the way to your toes, while he considered your words.  


“Elaborate on ‘can’t do it’.” It was soft, not quite a command, and it sent a curl of heat through your stomach.  


“I mean…” You sighed and found yourself leaning forward, almost whispering. “It’s not like I don’t… feel things it’s just....”  


“Not for him.” G finishes your sentence, golden orbs incredibly shrewd. You nod and take another sip. Oh, it’s nearly empty.  


“How ‘bout you and I go for a ride?”  


“What?”  


“I‘m usually invited to these things to be a stud, someone to fill a slot when asked.” He shrugs his shoulders, bringing attention to how broad they are. When your arm is moved too you notice you two hadn’t stopped holding hands. His warm phalanges were circled around your fingers. His hand isn’t put together the way you’d expect; the metacarpals are all fused, creating something close to a human palm, and there’s a perfect circle through the center, as if they fused around something.  


He tipped your chin up with a slender phalanx, ignoring that his other hand is still wrapped around yours. Now that you’ve noticed you can’t focus well on anything other than the heat of his bones. How does he manage to stay warm?  


“I’m not really feeling like filling a slot tonight and you don’t seem like you really want to sit around while your husband takes care of business. So how about we go for a ride?”  


Golden lights snared you, forcing you to think about his proposal instead of how his body functioned. A moonlit ride with a bad boy that seems to have walked straight out of an issue of Monster GQ? Your friends would be scandalized. Your husband would probably be pissed; he wasn’t the nicest man and held tight to some very sexist ideals.  


It was that last thought that had you making your decision. You nodded enthusiastically and set your drink on the table. He maneuvered through the crowd with ease, tugging you behind him. You didn’t even think to look back to see if your husband noticed or if people were whispering.  


Outside the air was brisk, you could faintly see your breath in white puffs, making it a little cooler than it should be for late September. Cars crowded the narrow driveway, spilling out onto the yard. You wondered which one was his, but only for a moment, as he gently pulled you towards the street. Parked at the corner, half a house away, was a sleek black motorcycle. Your breath caught in your throat; you’d definitely never done something this daring before.  


He handed you a full-face helmet, grinning.  


“Ya might need this.”  


“What about you?” You asked as you took the helmet from him.  


He rapped his knuckles against his skull, grinning devilishly. With him settled on the bike, that particular expression sent heat straight to your core.  


“Got one built in, so you can wear mine. If it makes ya feel better, I won’t go too fast.”  


It actually did comfort you a small bit. You fumbled through the clasp but eventually puzzled it out. When you swung your leg over the bike, you wobbled a bit, but didn’t fall. _That would have been embarrassing._  


The bike was a bit cold between your bare legs, and you found yourself scooting close to the stranger’s heat. He looked over his shoulder at you and grinned. You were fairly certain you looked ridiculous sitting on his bike in a dress, the fabric gathering up your legs.  


“You may want to hold on, sweetheart.”  


Your stomach, and maybe your heart, flipped end over end; what exactly did you grab on to? Your hands skimmed over where a waist would be, only to dip inward to his spine. He shuddered and you pulled away as if you’d been burned.  


A smooth, surprisingly warm hand grabbed your wrist and guided you to hold onto his lower ribs. The bones were covered by his thick sweater but you could _just_ feel them pressing into your forearms. His soft chuckle vibrated through your body.  


He flipped a switch and the bike roared to life beneath you before he sped away. You gripped tighter, wrapping your arms completely around his chest, burying your head against his spine. You could feel his laughter like the low thrum of a bass speaker. The wind was demanding, tugging at your clothes and whistling in your ears through the helmet.  


After a moment of nothing but the rumble of the engine and the yanking wind, you relaxed enough to sit straighter, easing your grip on his ribs but not letting go. He was taking you far from the city, following the two-lane expressway to the mountain. The smell of the trees, the icy wind, and the brilliant moon was mesmerizing. You never knew there was a place this peaceful and beautiful so close to the city; you spent so much time inside the city proper that the fringes were all new territory.  


He took a right at a light, up a winding path. He leaned one way then the other, gracefully twisting along the asphalt. Just when you were sure your ass was going to go numb from all the vibration, he pulled off onto the shoulder, where there was a good sized gravel clearing and a sign marking it as a ‘scenic stop’.  


He dismounted from the now silent bike before you, your legs being so chilled and numb that they were making climbing off with any amount of grace seem impossible. He held out a hand to you, which you took gratefully, stumbling off like a newborn giraffe. That sinful chuckle filled your ears again, making your face and core heat.  


Your numb fingers fumbled with the clasp on the helmet, which really shouldn’t be difficult. Smooth, long phalanges stilled your shaking fingers and he gently tugged the strap of the helmet, the snap-button undoing itself. An equally gentle tug and your head was free. You smoothed your hands over your hair, trying to keep the wild strands from sticking straight up.  


After setting his helmet on the seat you’d just evacuated, he offered you his hand. A small smile curved your mouth and you took the proffered hand, marveling again at it’s warmth.  


The view of the city from the cliff was breathtaking.  


“I never knew this place was up here,” your words were breathless and awestruck. He smiled and leaned against the railing.  


“I usually come up here to think.” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes, tapped them against his metacarpals, and retrieved one from the pack.  


“Do you need to think now?” Your tone was teasing, emboldened by the alcohol lingering in your system as well as the adrenaline from the exhilarating ride.  


“Maybe.” His tone was equally playful as he lit his cig, the stick bouncing as his mouth moved.  


“What about?” You blushed, remembering that this man was essentially a stranger. “If you don’t mind me asking.”  


His grin was sexy, stretching slowly across his face. The burning end of the cig glowed brightly for a moment as he inhaled. Smoke puffed from between his teeth, swirling about his skull, caressing the bone like a lover on the exhale. That grin was still in place, gold lights smoldering behind the curtain of smoke, giving him a decidedly mysterious aura.  


“Maybe I’m thinkin’ about askin’ a married woman for her number.” Another drag from the cigarette. “You know, stupid shit.”  


Considering his suggestion was definitely stupid, even though you’d literally jumped on the back of a stranger’s motorcycle and allowed him to ferry you far from a party where your husband probably still was. Where he was probably busy burying himself between the thighs of someone far prettier and far more enjoyable than you.  


Your hands fisted in your dress for a moment, your decision clear. The humdrum of your loveless life would drive you insane. In a single moment this Monster had flipped your world on its ear; he’d taken you on an adventure, it was small but it still counted, and showed you more compassion than any human had. You handed him your cell phone with a small grin.  


“I agree, that is quite stupid. But I think she’d like that.” You said coyly, earning a wolfish grin from your companion.  


“She’s a bold woman.” He entered his number and then sent himself a text.  


Your face felt warm and was starting to feel sore; your grin had been in place for a while. While this was easily the dumbest thing you’d ever done (if you asked your parents, they’d say going to Veterinarian school had been the dumbest thing you’d done, but this would take a close second) you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it.  


You didn’t regret the soft conversation on the top of the hill, filled with low laughter and playful nudging. You didn’t regret the chilly ride home (because while you were already making bad decisions you decided to go all in and give him your home address so that you wouldn’t have to return to that party). And you definitely didn’t regret the kiss you placed to his cheekbone before darting to your door.


End file.
